


That Stay the Same

by konokomi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, feelings are hard and yachi plays gay feels consultant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 19:53:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4973920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/konokomi/pseuds/konokomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa's got a crush and he has no idea how to deal with it. Solution? Ask his friends for help.</p><p>Result? Better than expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Stay the Same

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so sorry

In retrospect, the realization should have come much sooner than it did. It should have come on one of many sleepless nights spent curled up next to each other when Oikawa called him at one in the morning complaining about being alone and demanding Iwaizumi let him in because, what do you know, he was standing outside already, as always. It should have come when Iwaizumi sacrificed time he could have been using to study for a big test (that he passed anyway, like he always did) to spend on Oikawa’s own studies (he was much less fortunate but managed to charm a retest out of their sensei, which annoyed Iwaizumi, but not having Oikawa on the court due to a grade-related suspension would have been worse, so he dealt with it).

It really should have come at _any other time_.

But it came when Oikawa’s face was smack dab in his crotch doing leg stretches in the middle of the court while most of the team got changed into their practice clothes in the locker room.

“Oh my god!” he said, sitting up suddenly and leaning back on his hands, as if to catch himself in his surprise, lest he fall over and hurt himself from the small drop that already sitting on the floor would entail. “I like Iwa-chan!”

Hanamaki put one foot on the inside of either of Matsukawa’s ankles and leaned back as he pulled Matsukawa forward by his hands, tilting his head back further to give Oikawa what could only be called a Look. Not an Iwaizumi Look, which was saved only for Seijou’s admirable if not rather prickly ace, but a Look nonetheless.

“What,” he said flatly.

Oikawa spun on his butt and sat with the bottoms of his feet pressed together in a butterfly stretch, pushing down on his knees excitedly. “It’s so obvious, Makki! Why I’ve felt so strange around Iwa-chan lately, why I get all flustered—it’s the only reason!”

A beat passed. Hanamaki and Matsukawa shared a Look between them before Matsukawa sat back up, pulling Hanamaki with him. “You… You’re not serious, right?”

“Of _course_ I’m serious!” Oikawa squawked, offended. He threw one arm across his chest and used the other to pull on it gently. “Why would I joke about something like this? Oh, god, does he even know? Would he feel the same way? Should I tell him?”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa shared another Look, complete with eyebrow gestures and an ‘I don’t know’ sound from Hanamaki.

“Uh, yeah,” Hanamaki said as he turned around, “about that—” Matsukawa stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and they engaged in a brief expressions-only conversation that had Oikawa pressing his lips together out of annoyance. After some sort of a decision was reached, Hanamaki backtracked and said, “Actually, yeah, you should. But make it _real_ nice and memorable. Something he can’t say no to.”

“Do you have any pointers?”

They both clapped a hand to their mouth in unison, meeting each other’s eyes in feigned shock.

“Could it be?” Matsukawa said from behind his hand.

“The Grand King, Tooru Oikawa, unparalleled Casanova of Seijou… Asking us, mere plebes, for _romantic advice_?”

“Perish the thought!”

Oikawa frowned. “Oh, ha ha, very funny. My expertise extends to the furthest reaches of entertaining lovely little ladies and gentlemen that only want to bask in my presence. And the occasional acceptance of a date.” He winked.

Hanamaki snorted. “And then you end up standing them up. Usually for something volleyball related.”

He couldn’t fight that. He deflated a little and said, “Well, yeah. That happens. But in any case, Iwa-chan is different! Not only are we best friends, but this sort of a change to our relationship could cause drama within the team!”

They shared another Look and Oikawa’s frown deepened. “Yeah, okay,” said Matsukawa, waving a hand dismissively.

“Well, how did _you_ two get together? You weren’t _loud_ about announcing it but everyone still knows.”

“Hmm,” said Hanamaki, rubbing his chin.

“Hmm _hmm_ ,” returned Matsukawa, rubbing his own chin.

They both shrugged in unison. “Don’t know,” Hanamaki said. “It just sort of happened.”

“Yep, I don’t know either.”

Oikawa huffed just as the rest of the team was coming out onto the court. “You guys are useless!”

* * *

After practice, Oikawa was greeted by a volleyball lobbed at his head significantly less painfully than usual, and he rubbed the stinging spot before turning around to see Iwaizumi with his hands on his hips. “Oi,” he said, gruffly. “You seemed kind of out of it today. Are you okay?”

 _No_ , he wanted to say, _not really, because I totally realized I’m ridiculously into you and holding hands sounds super swell right now, even if we’re both covered in sweat and you kind of smell like crap_.

“Aww, Iwa-chan, you were worried about me?” is what he said instead, which earned him a punch on the shoulder.

He didn’t get the chance to whine about Iwaizumi being rude before the punch was replaced with a light touch on the back. It was familiar, reassuring, and Iwaizumi looked at him seriously as he said, “I mean it though, tell me if something’s bothering you. You know I hate it when you turn into a self-destructive asshole.”

It was hard not to mourn the loss of contact when Iwaizumi pulled his hand back, but Oikawa sucked it up and said, with a grin, “You love me for it anyway!”

Iwaizumi hit him again, then once more for good measure.

* * *

Three weeks later and Oikawa couldn’t take it anymore.

“I can’t take this anymore!” he said to no one, alone in his room at his desk, his homework (barely touched) spread out in front of him. He dropped his head to the desk with a ‘clunk’ and whined loudly. Having feelings for someone was hard enough, but when that someone was your best friend of _many_ years that you _really_ didn’t want to lose, it got even worse.

It wasn’t like there was anyone he could really _ask_ , either. Hanamaki and Matsukawa were completely unhelpful and had nothing to offer him but encouragement, which was getting him _absolutely nowhere_ with this Fun Time of a crush on Iwaizumi. Did he even know anyone else who was good at relationships, or, at the least, in one?

In any case, making a list of people he knew was a good place to start. He went through most of the region’s volleyball teams before getting to Karasuno and stopped after writing ‘Tobio-chan’ and ‘mikan-chan’ (the little orange ball of sunshine, however cute he was, was just so hard to put a name to. He had one, and Oikawa had definitely heard it before, but what it was? Who knew). Maybe he could ask Kageyama for help? They seemed to get along well.

He picked up the paper in both hands and looked at it for a while.

Then he smiled, crumpled it up, and held it over the flame of his very name brand, very expensive, completely gender neutral (no matter _what_ Iwaizumi said) Lavender Kisses candle before slam dunking it in the empty trash can and squirting it once with the water bottle on the edge of his desk, all in one swift sequence of movements.

He dropped his head to the desk again and got out half a whine before sitting up abruptly and saying, “Right! Yacchan!”

If there was one person in this world he could trust not to judge him, it was Yachi. Somehow, and he still wasn’t entirely sure how, he had managed to strike up something a friendship with the enthusiastic mini-manager of Karasuno. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was quite possibly the first girl he’d ever talked to that had a clear disinterest in him as anything other than a friend.

(It helped that she was obviously head-over-heels for the black-haired beauty of a manager none of the other teams in the region could keep their mouths shut about.)

He hopped to his feet and took three strides toward the door before stopping and realizing that maybe going out in public without a disguise wasn’t the best idea. The last time he’d gone out he’d tried the old floppy hat and sunglasses combination… to little avail. His fangirls were _relentless_.

All was not lost, however. He had a secret weapon.

Giggling to himself, he turned on his heel to face the closet and slid the doors open dramatically, grinning widely.

It was _foolproof_.

* * *

Practice was running a little late, which wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for the Karasuno volleyball team; what was, though, was the tall blonde woman peeking around the doors to the gymnasium and stage whispering, “Yacchaaaaaaan.”

Kiyoko looked at the woman and then at Yachi. “Friend of yours?” she asked.

Yachi shook her head furiously. “Um, not that I know of…? I’ll go… see what she wants.” She jogged over to the doors to get some answers but found herself yanked outside by the wrist before she could ask a question.

“I need your help,” said the woman, and Yachi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The woman huffed and took off her sunglasses. “It’s _me_ , Yacchan.”

Yachi tilted her head.

The woman sighed. “It’s Oikawa. From Seijou!”

“O-Oikawa-san? Why are you here? And… in a skirt?” She paused and backed up to look at him. “You actually don’t look bad in that.”

“I know, right? Anyway, I have a serious problem I need your help with. You’re the only person I can trust for actual advice without judgment!”

She opened her mouth and closed it again before nodding. “Okay, I’ll try to help. What, um… What’s the problem?”

Oikawa inhaled and then exhaled, putting one hand on either of Yachi’s shoulders. “Have you ever had feelings for someone?”

“Yeah.”

“Someone you know really well? And see all the time?”

“...Yeah.”

“Someone whose friendship you really, really value?”

“Y-Yeah…”

“Someone that, if you told them how you felt, you might lose to the endless void of awkwardness as your relationship falls apart before your eyes and you’re left alone and unloved in this harsh, cruel world?”

Yachi puffed out her cheeks. “You lost me there. Are you going to be okay, Oikawa-san?”

He retracted his hands from her shoulders and chewed on a thumbnail. “Most likely, no. Not at all. I think I’m in love with my best friend and everything feels like it’s _changed_ all of a sudden. These last three weeks have been _hell_.”

“Wait, you mean Iwaizumi-san? Because, uh, he sort of—”

“Yachi, you done yet?” Daichi said, poking his head out of the gym doors. “We need you.”

“Um, right, yes! I’ll be right there!” she said with a wave before turning back to Oikawa. “I have to go, but… Just talk to him, okay? That’s the best advice I can give you. Maybe it won’t turn out as bad as you think it will. Anyway, bye!”

Oikawa was left standing there alone, feeling no less anxious but highly regretting wearing pantyhose because they were riding up in the back.

* * *

“Hi mom good to see you how was your day I’m fine everything’s great I’m going upstairs to do homework _bye_ ,” Oikawa rambled out as he took long sprinting strides through the front door, past the kitchen, and up the stairs before the inevitable questioning could start. She tried to stop him to tell him something but he just kept on going, closing his bedroom door behind him and leaning his forehead on the door. “That was close.”

“Nice skirt, Oikawa.”

He jumped and turned around to find Iwaizumi on his bed playing Mario Kart by himself (the game now paused), one eyebrow raised. The usual response to seeing Iwaizumi very clearly sucking hard at a video game would be teasing and a well-meaning, friendly insult—

Too bad Oikawa could only manage a small heart attack.

“I-Iwa-chan!” he said, pulling off his wig and chucking it across the room. “Whaaat are you doing here?”

“Didn’t your mom tell you? I’m spending the night because you’re being weird as shit again and I don’t like it,” he said plainly. “And I _do_ enjoy babysitting.”

A moment of silence passed between them before Oikawa said, “You’re not going to ask about the skirt?”

“If I wanted to question _every_ weird thing you do, I’d need more years than I have left.” He held out a second controller. “Wanna play?”

“I—” he started, finishing _like you, Iwa-chan_ in his head before vocalizing, “would love to, yeah. Try not to suck too hard!”

“ _You’re_ the one who sucks, Shittykawa!”

* * *

It was halfway through practice a week and a half later when Oikawa frustratedly called for a break, grabbed Iwaizumi by the jersey, and dragged him over to a private corner of the gymnasium (though not without much protesting from Iwaizumi and a slew of insults).

“What the _hell_ is your—” Iwaizumi started, but Oikawa cut him off with, “We need to talk.”

It was unusually serious, and Iwaizumi slammed his mouth shut.

“About what?” he asked, prying carefully.

“About the last few weeks,” Oikawa replied, “and… and us. I— I don’t know how to say this but—” He trailed off before composing himself and looking Iwaizumi straight in the eyes. “I know this is _weird_ but I don’t… I don’t want you to think any differently of me, and we can work it out so nothing has to change if you don’t want it to. But, I— I like you, Iwa-chan. Not… in a friendly way. I mean, I _do_ like you as a friend, but not _just_ a friend.”

The disgust he’d been fearing never came. Instead, all he got was a quizzical look (which was adorable), and Iwaizumi saying, “O...kay. I like you too? That’s why we’re dating.”

“You don’t have to humor me, just promise you w—I. Wh...a...t.”

Silence. Then:

“Wait, _what_?!” and everyone on the other side of the gym looked up to see the source of the commotion as Hanamaki grumpily handed Kunimi 2000 yen. “What do you _mean_ , ‘we’re dating’?”

Iwaizumi responded in kind (and just as loudly) with, “What do _you_ mean, ‘what do you mean, “we’re dating”?’ Are you telling me we _weren’t_?!”

“Why the hell did you think we _were_?!” Oikawa shot back, red to his ears.

“Because when we were fourteen you kissed me and told me you loved me? Sure, you were half-asleep, but the next morning you were clingier than usual and I assumed you meant it!” Iwaizumi yelled, flailing his arms around comically as he did so. “Fuck’s sake, Oikawa, we sleep in the same bed, we watch bad movies together with your head in my lap, we spend an _exorbitant_ amount of time alone together—what was I _supposed_ to think?!”

Oikawa put his face in his hands and made an awful noise for a good twenty seconds straight before lifting his face just enough out of them to look at Iwaizumi. “If you thought we were dating, why didn’t you ever, you know…” he said quietly.

“Why didn't I ever _what_?”

“Why didn’t you ever kiss me?”

Iwaizumi pinched the skin between his eyebrows. “Because you’re all _sensitive_ and _dramatic_ , like right now.”

“I am _not_ dramatic!” Oikawa snapped back, one hand on his chest in offense.

“Yes, you are! You’re doing it right now! You’re being dramatic!”

“Because _you’re_ being _rude_!”

Throwing his hands up, Iwaizumi made his own awful noise, somewhere between a sigh and a grunt in the back of his throat. Oikawa pouted for a moment before crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head _just right_ to look like a condescending douchebag.

“Fine then,” he said matter-of-factly. “You can just kiss me _now_.”

Iwaizumi started flailing his arms again. “I’m not kissing you in front of the entire team, asshole!”

Hanamaki frowned more and handed Kunimi another 2000 yen while Iwaizumi and Oikawa went back and forth about how Iwaizumi refusing to kiss him in front of the team meant he didn’t actually care about him, and how that’s total bullshit and it’s just a privacy thing, et cetera.

Practice was entirely forgotten.

 


End file.
